A Man's World
by WalnutOwl
Summary: He's a world class detective and a literary hero, and he's a well established pathologist. Not everything is as it seems. (Mild Sherlock Special Spoilers)
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: As of right now this is just a one off. However, I may be inspired to write more. Inspiration has struck.**

"Hooper."

Hooper looked up from the body he was examining and rolled his eyes. "Holmes." He removed his gloves and moved to the front of the morgue with his arms crossed. "And what can I do for you now? Although keep in mind, without Lestrade here, I won't be cooperating so wholeheartedly."

"I wanted to see the husband."

"Why?"

When he didn't say anything, Hooper sighed and turned to lead Holmes over to the husband's body, pulling back the sheet.  
"I don't know what the point is Holmes, we already know how he died."

Holmes had dropped his voice to no more than a whisper. "The point is that he is on the farthest side of the morgue. Anderson is in the store room?"

Hooper nodded, understanding what he wanted now. Pulling a small piece of paper out of his pocket, Hooper passed it over the body to Holmes. "Meant to give this to you earlier."

Holmes glanced at the paper before pocketing it. "I suppose I'll thank you Hooper." Holmes' voice now back to normal level but with a sardonic tone. "I'll be sure to relay on to Scotland Yard just how helpful you've been." Giving Hooper the tiniest of winks, Holmes spun around and was gone.

"What was that all about?" Anderson asked, poking his head into the morgue.

"Just Holmes being a pompous prick as usual." Hooper looked at Anderson with narrowed eyes. "Either get back to work, or go home!"

* * *

Holmes climbed out of the carriage, payed the driver and strode up the front steps of the residence to knock on the door.

"Holmes."

"Hooper."

Hooper stood aside to let Holmes through the open door before closing it behind him.

"Aren't the staff supposed to answer the door of a gentleman's rooms?" Holmes asked as he hung up his hat and coat.

"I've sent the staff home for the evening."

"Brilliant." With a wicked grin on his face, Holmes grabbed a handful of Hooper's waistcoat and pulled him forward, pressing their lips firmly together.

"Will you please take off that ridiculous mustache? I feel as though I'm courting Watson."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Alright, I've gone and done it. I will say that I am working on at least a bit more as well. Anyways, enjoy.**

* * *

"I must say, I like your new rooms." Sherlock mumbled as he ran his fingers over her bare arm, pressing his lips to her collar bone.

"I find that they're closer to work."

"Mmm, among other things."

"Yes, among other things that you shouldn't mention if you wish to stay." Molly gently pushed him off of her and slid out of the bed, pulling a dressing gown around herself. She walked around the room with a match, lighting strategically placed lamps to give the room a soft glow. "Have you solved the case yet?"

Sherlock groaned and repositioned himself on the bed, sitting up against the headboard. "Another for the list of things that shall remain unmentioned should you wish me to stay."

Molly chuckled and climbed onto the edge of the bed. "So you came here for a distraction."

"Everything is a distraction Molly. Some just happen to be better than others."

"I'll take that as a complement." She smirked at him before leaning forward to press her lips to his again. "But you, Mr. Holmes, are changing the subject. What has you stumped? Perhaps I can be of help."

"I don't see how you could be."

"Oh?" Molly snorted. "Do you mean other than the fact that I'm the one that did her post mortem? I think you'd be surprised by my understanding of this case."

But Sherlock had lost focus. "Is that the time? I had better go. Watson will be wondering where I've gone."

Molly huffed, getting out of his way as he climbed out of the bed to dress. "Yes, we mustn't worry Doctor Watson."

Sherlock dressed in relative silence as Molly watched with her arms crossed over her chest. Once he had given his hair one last run with his fingers in the mirror, he turned to face her. She huffed again. "I expect you can let yourself out, given my unbecoming state."

"Yes of course, but first I need you to punch me. In the face is preferable."

"What?"

"Right around here." He said as he gestured to his cheekbone.

"Why on earth do I need to punch you in the face?"

"I need an alibi. Watson knows I frequent the boxing rings. It will make it believable."

"Sherlock, I'm not going to punch you in the face."

"Well I can't punch myself. The bruising will look strange."

With the way the night had ended, Molly didn't need any more urging.

 _THUMP_.

* * *

"Christ Holmes. Bad night in the ring?" Watson admired Sherlock's freshly bleeding cut over his cheekbone as he strode into the living room.

"Quite the formidable opponent." Sherlock agreed, with the slightest of smirks before disappearing into his bedroom.


	3. Chapter 3

"Hooper."

"Holmes."

The woman standing in front of him was not the woman Sherlock thought he knew. Instead, a look of challenge, with a hint of contempt, stared daggers up at him. She had fooled him. The great Sherlock Holmes.

"For the record Holmes, she didn't have me fooled."

Sherlock had to stop himself as he turned on Watson. He was stunned, yes, but not for the reason Watson thought.  
Molly's eyes bore into him and it took him a second to collect himself. There were other pressing matters to attend to first.

 _The women we have ignored and disparaged._

* * *

Sherlock's knuckles rapped briskly on the wood of the familiar door.

"Yes?"

"Hello Janine…"

"Mr. Holmes." She nodded at him, her eyebrow raised and a smug smirk on her face.

"I was… wanting to speak to Doctor Hooper."

"Obviously."

"I… well…" He huffed out a breath, clearly at a loss for what to say to such impertinence.

"He's eating his breakfast. Really busy." She interjected sardonically.

Sherlock was getting annoyed now and his words came out like vinegar. "Please, may I speak to Doctor Hooper."

Janine simply smiled, her eyes gleaming, and stepped aside to let him in.

Molly was sitting at the dining table, dressed for work and sipping tea as she read the paper. "Holmes." She acknowledged without looking away from the page.

"Hooper."

"Will there be anything else Dr Hooper?" Janine chimed in from Sherlock's elbow.

"No. That will be all for today I think Janine. Enjoy the rest of your day."

Sherlock watched as Janine left. Yet another one to fool him. Mary, Janine… Molly.

He turned back to the man sitting at the table. Everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours made him question his own cleverness.

"Well spit it out then. I have to be at work soon." Hooper put his paper down and stood. "Lestrade's bringing me a fresh one this morning… from the country. Some Lord…"

Sherlock snapped and lunged across the room at him, grabbing the front of his shirt and pushing him up against the wall, hard. He was shaking as he glared down at the doctor in his grasp. The doctor who's eyes were wide with surprise, but who's face remained steeled towards him.

"Temper, temper." Hooper spat patronizingly. "Go on then. Punch me. I can tell you want to. Need to even. In need of another fix?"

Sherlock's grip loosed. "I don't…"

As soon as he was free from Sherlock's grasp, Hooper shoved him away and readjusted himself. "Clearly you have something you want to say."

Sherlock stood in silence for a few moments before turning on his heel. He was out the door. He was down the street. He was far away from Doctor Hooper.

* * *

 **A/N: Hello. Thank you all for your kind words and acknowledgement. I hope you're enjoying this little thing that I've done. Um... yeah. Please leave a review, they make me really happy. I'm sorry about the constant changing of pronouns, it's something that I'm playing around with a bit give the circumstances and it may or may not be working. I don't know, you're the ones reading it. So yeah... okay I'll shut up now. Thanks again.**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hello there, I hope you're enjoying this story so far. Things are about to get a little more interesting so I hope you continue to enjoy it. Please leave a review, they keep me going. Love you all xoxo.**

* * *

Molly unlocked her front door after a long day. She'd been confronted by Sherlock that morning and, upon arriving at work, had received three bodies to deal with.

She flipped on the gas lamps to give the dark house some light before removing her 'd given Janine the evening off so the house should have been empty. However, she heard the soft whoosh of a match being lit in the other room. Gripping the small revolver she kept in her coat, Dr Hooper spun around. "Who's there? Show yourself."

"Now now, is that any way to treat your husband?"

Molly's hand twitched as she stared at the silhouette seated in one of the armchairs, the lamp that was now lit beside them casting shadows over their face. "My husband is dead."

"Maybe not!" Replied a playful, singsong voice.

BANG

"Well that was a little uncalled for." The shadow stood up and began making its way towards her.

BANG

He kept coming.

BANG BANG BANG BANG

Click click click

The cylinder was empty and the man stood right in front of her, causing her to back up against the wall.

"James." She breathed out, finally seeing his face clearly.

"Miss me?"

* * *

James Moriarty ran a finger along Molly's jawline as she shivered against the wall.

"That moustache really does look ridiculous." He ripped the piece of hair from her lip, drawing a quiet sound from her throat as she flinched.

"Although, I can't fault you for doing what you've had to to get ahead in the world we live in."

"Why are you here?" She whispered.

Moriarty's mouth spread into a grin, his eyes darkening. "You'll find out soon enough."

There was a sound of footfalls coming up the front steps and Molly's attention was drawn to the door. When she turned to gauge James' reaction, he was gone.

Molly looked around her frantically when there was a knock on the door. He was definitely gone. Had he even been there in the first place? Collecting herself as best as she could and stuffing the empty revolver into her trouser pocket, she went to answer the door.

"Hooper." Sherlock raised an eyebrow at her and looked around him before pushing her back into the house and closing the door behind them.

"What the hell do you want Holmes? Get out of my house!"

"I came to speak with you. Would you prefer to conduct this conversation in the street?" He gestured to his upper lip, causing her hand to jump to her own. Her moustache was still gone.

"Right… I suppose not. Well, out with it then. What do you want to speak to me about?"

"That depends."

"On what?"

"Am I speaking to Molly? Or am I speaking to Dr Hooper?"

"What the hell are you on about Sherlock? I'm the same damn person." She was not in the mood for this nonsense after what had just happened.

"I'm not so sure about that anymore. Whomever I spoke to this morning was most definitely not the Molly Hooper that I am acquainted with. Were you playing it up in front of Janine, or am I the fool to have thought I knew you? Because I thought I knew you Molly, but it seems that you've had me fooled."

Molly stared up at him in disbelief, her shock from moments before pushed to the side for the moment. "Is that what this morning was about? You're upset that I aided in the murder of men tormenting their wives? I did what was required Sherlock."

"I never said that it wasn't a necessity. That isn't any of my business. What I'm upset about is that you didn't tell me. No… that you knowingly tricked me. You played me like a violin. You enjoyed it, and that is not the Molly that I lo…" Sherlock stopped dead in his tracks and fell silent. He had been about to say something that could not be taken back.

"Sherlock…"

"That's all I had to say Molly. I'll see Dr Hooper at work tomorrow." He gazed down at her for a long moment before turning and leaving Molly alone in the house once again.


	5. Chapter 5

Molly was on her fourth cup of coffee that morning and was still having trouble keeping her eyes open as she poured over the paperwork at her desk. She hadn't been able to sleep a wink last night, her mind swimming with thoughts of Sherlock. Whenever she had started to settle down, a shadow from the street would dance along her bedroom wall, causing her to sit bolt upright with her heart pounding in her chest. Her revolver never left her side.

She unconsciously felt for the lump in her waistcoat. As she walked to work that morning, he would appear in the corner of her eye. When she turned to look again, he was gone. Molly was jumpy to say the least. His appearance in her life again was the very last thing she could have expected to happen. She didn't understand how, she didn't understand why, but she knew one thing for sure. He was back and he was back for a reason.

"Are you alright Doctor Hooper?"

Molly jumped and turned to the door. Relaxing, she rubbed her face. "Yes… didn't get much sleep last night. What do you want Anderson?"

"Detective Inspector Lestrade is here, and he's brought Mr Holmes."

"Brilliant." mumbled Molly. "Tell them I'll be out in a minute."

As Anderson left, Molly straightened her paperwork. She didn't even remember doing the majority of the complete pile. Shaking her head, she grabbed her coat and braced herself for an unpleasant encounter.

"Detective Inspector, what can I do for you this morning?" Doctor Hooper asked as he exited his office, pulling his coat on.

"Ah, Hooper, there you are. We were hoping to get your report on Mr… uh…" Lestrade pulled a notepad out of his jacket and flipped through the pages. "Mr Highmore."

"Highmore?" Hooper checked the tag on the table nearest him. "I haven't gotten around to him yet. We're a bit backed up at the moment."

"Oh… Do you mind if we have a look then? See if there are any… points of interest?"

Lestrade thought he was being funny, grinning and glancing up at Sherlock. However, the room was not feeling it today, the exception being a quiet snigger from Anderson's corner.

"Not at all, just don't contaminate my body."

Lestrade nodded a thanks and the two men made their way over to the body, Sherlock not once making eye contact with Hooper. Under the pretence of checking on Anderson's work, Hooper stayed close enough to them to keep an eye on them. He didn't trust them enough to leave them alone with a body they hadn't looked into yet.

Hooper refused to listen to Holmes' usual mutterings as he showed off to the detective inspector, until he noticed an oddly abrupt silence in the room. As he looked over at them, he caught Holmes' intent gaze. A look of disbelief, almost betrayal. Without a word, Holmes rushed out of the morgue.

"Holmes? Holmes!" A very confused Lestrade attempted to chase after him, tossing a clumsy goodbye over his shoulder. "Thank you Doctor."

Anderson asked the question that hung heavy in the room."What the hell is his problem?"

Molly didn't know, but she had a feeling that it was cause for her to be worried.

"Drop what you're doing Anderson. I want to have a look at Mr Highmore."

 **A/N: Hello all. I know it's been a while and I know this is a bit short, but I wanted to get you guys a little bit of content. Hopefully it won't be too long before the next installment. Thank you all for your feedback, I always look forward to what you have to say. Enjoy!**


	6. Chapter 6

"Holmes? What are you doing home? I thought you were out with Les… oh… hello Detective Inspector."

"Doctor Watson." Lestrade nodded at the doorway before turning back to Sherlock. "You'll let me know if anything comes up then yeah?" He received a grunt as a response, which seemed to be enough, and left the flat.

"You two come from the morgue then? Find anything interesting?"

Sherlock was laying on the sofa, staring up at the ceiling in his dressing gown, and entirely unresponsive.

"Is this the file?" Watson moved to the coffee table, picking up the file and fingering through it. "Christ… a dagger in the eye!"

"Mr Highmore reportedly grew increasingly anxious in the days leading up to his murder." Sherlock's low voice came from the sofa. "He leaves behind a wife and two daughters, who moved to London three months ago after being involved in a police report citing their physical abuse at the hands of our Mr Highmore. He was in the city all of a week in an attempt to retrieve them and bring them home. Things did not go well for him here."

"Well doesn't that sound familiar."

Sherlock's head snapped to look up at Watson. "Does it?"

"Yes of course it does. I thought we'd dealt with them." Watson tossed the file back onto the table.

"Dealt with who?"

"Are you… Holmes it's obviously them again! The Emelia Ricoletti lot!"

"Is it?"

"Yes of course! Are you… are you protecting them?"

At that moment, the door to the flat burst open, causing Sherlock to sit up right.

"Sherlock, it wasn't me! I promise you it wasn't us."

"Doctor Hooper." John crossed his arms and squared up to Molly. "A likely story. Forgive me if I don't believe you. You lot have gotten away with enough murders as it is." He pushed past her and down the stairs.

Sherlock called after him. "Watson do not go to the authorities!"

"The hell I won't!" Came Watson's answer before the door slammed below.

"Sherlock… I know what it looks like. I went over the body as soon as you left. I know all of the evidence points to us… to me. But we didn't do it. Highmore wasn't on our list. We didn't know about him. You have to believe me. I didn't trick you. Not this time." Molly looked up at Sherlock, desperate for some form of acceptance.

"If you didn't do it, perhaps one of yours did. A rogue agent as it were."

"That's possible… I suppose…" Molly hesitated a moment. "But I don't think that's what's going on here…"

"I suppose it has something to do with Moriarty?"

Molly spluttered in surprise. "I… wha… how do you know about him?"

Sherlock moved around her, closed the door to the flat and spoke into her ear.

"You've been holding the gun in your pocket all day in a vice like grip and keep checking over your shoulder even though you know nobody is there. There's only one person that scares you that much."

"But… I've never told you about him…"

"Molly…" She turned to look up at him as he grabbed hold of her shaking hand. "Did you really think I wouldn't look into why you've done what you've done? Everybody has a motivation, and he is your motivation."

"I thought you were cross with me because of all that."

Sherlock sighed heavily and let go of her hand. "I'm not mad because of what you've done. I'm mad because you kept it from me. You toyed with me and had me running around in circles like a common idiot. How's the case going Sherlock? You knew full well how it was going."

"I never meant to play with you Sherlock. I only meant to get away with it and you were standing in the way of that. I'm sorry." She grabbed for his hand again and squeezed it tight.

Sherlock leaned down and pressed his lips to her, pulling her into an embrace before releasing them. "Come on then Molly, we have a case."

"We do?" She asked, a little bemused as he let go over her and went over to his desk.

"Yes. We have to track down your husband. I'm afraid he's being rather naughty." He grinned over at her, the thrill of the chase written all over his face.

Molly on the other hand felt a shiver run through her spine at the mention of him. "Yes… I suppose we do…"

 **A/N: Surprise! There's another update for you lot. I hope you enjoy it. Sherlock actually talked about his feelings for once! Yay him! Proud parent over here. Anyways, let me know what you think! xxx**


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